


Here Comes the Sun

by Powerpuffgoil



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Cute Junkrat, Established Relationship, F/M, Female Reader, First Meetings, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Not a slow build, Pre-Relationship, Self-Indulgent, inspired by in-game events, loosely that is, oh and terrible puns, so many terrible puns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-12
Updated: 2018-01-18
Packaged: 2019-03-03 18:33:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13347066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Powerpuffgoil/pseuds/Powerpuffgoil
Summary: When you meet Jamison Fawkes at a training session, your first instinct is to stay away. Far away.What you don't expect is for the scraggly man to inadvertently win your heart.Just a self-indulgent fluff and smut fic. Skip to the final chapter if you only seek The Goods.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two factors led to the conception of this fic:  
> 1) an interaction I had with a Junkrat in-game where we kept voice-lining and emoting at each other, which ended up getting us killed numerous times.  
> 2) several fragmented ideas that came to me as I was moving things out of my old apartment. Eh, what can I say - when inspiration striketh, answer the call!  
> I've actually been afraid to write Junkrat, so I figured I'd test the waters with a shorter fic. Eventually I'd like to write a slow burn for him, but I've yet to figure out what would happen in such a story.  
>  ** _Anyways_** , enjoy! Also, feel free to let me know if I misuse any Aussie slang or if the Rat seems OOC. I'm learning. :^)

This was... This was something. It certainly was not what you had expected you would put on the top of the list of outlandish things being involved in Overwatch could offer you. In fact, romance wasn't even an option you had considered when you accepted your position in the agency.

Yet, here you were; and to your incessant disbelief, there he was.

It was during a training session that something had sparked between yourself and the eccentric, demolition-obsessed Aussie. The task was simple - capture the point and ward off the enemy team, which of course were training bots.

Your team for the day consisted of four highly-skilled individuals of Overwatch's earliest recall members, yourself, and someone who completely threw you off upon first glance. It wasn't solely because of how grimy he was, or how his fiery blonde hair was singed at the ends. It also wasn't completely because of the wild look he held in his eyes, which seemed to be darting all over as if he were in a constant state of paranoia. No, it was all of these things, but more importantly it was the simple fact that he was here, and try as you might, you couldn't make sense of it.

You had been taught growing up not to judge a book by its cover. However, as far as you knew, this man was well known across the globe to be a terrorist, a criminal. You had to wonder what use an organization such as Overwatch could possibly have for someone like him.

As you stood among your fellow teammates receiving additional instruction for your training, you couldn't help but eye him. He stood hunched and shirtless alongside you, a grenade launcher cradled in his hands, and his whole frame was twitching. Was he even listening to what was being said? There was no telling what was going through his brain, and you entertained several possible scenarios in your head that actually caused you to chuckle out loud. The next glance that you chanced in his direction caused your chest to tighten as his eyes met yours.

_Shit, you idiot. Can't you keep your damn laughter inside?_

Quickly you averted your attention to the ground. A smooth save.

Suddenly a warmth radiated from beside you, and a pungent aroma of burnt hair, soot, and _man_ assaulted your nostrils. You reflexively switched your respiration from nose to mouth, longing for the ability to lift your shirt over your nose to escape the smell. That would be much too obvious though. For now you could only hope the source wasn't what you thought it was.

"Oi, what gives?" came the accented voice. "Don't tell me ya heard that too. _Fuckin' hell_ , if that ain't the funniest shit that old bloke's ever said!"

Well, fuck. So much for secrecy. You never were talented in the art of being subtle. You supposed there was no use avoiding him, being on the same team and all. You turned to regard him. What to say, though?  
  
_Oh, ha, what was it that 76 said again? I was too busy making fun of you in my head to even listen to my commanding officer. You really have thrown me for a loop here, buster. Say, by the by, aren't you an outlaw in your own country?_

There was but one ability you could put to use here, and that was to smother your unease in humor.  
  
"He's respectable enough. A seasoned combat veteran, a beacon of hope and high prestige to his fellow agents," you began in mock reverence. "He's also human. I overheard him taking a trip to shitpants city the other day and I've not been the same since." You blew a rasberry for an added effect.  
  
The laugh that manifested from the man beside you was anything but a simple giggle, which would have sufficed. While you were flattered that he found your anecdote amusing, now was not the time for the boistrous cacophany that had erupted from him. To avoid any association with him, you shifted your gaze to focus on 76, who seemed to either somehow not notice the disruption, or didn't care to address it.  
  
You were thankful that the volume of Junkrat's laughter exceeded the duration. However, what you then considered was that since your exchange of dialogue had affected him so severely, it was likely that he was going to stick around with you for the rest of this mission. Why were you so neurotic, and why did you have to turn out to be right?  
  
You were reminded of times in your civilian life where certain coworkers or classmates had volunteered you against your will to be subjected to their unbearable personalities. Perhaps that was too dramatic a comparison.  
  
Indeed, once the formation had disbanded and your team set towards the objective to commence training, the lanky Aussie fell casually in step beside you and it was safe to say that he left no gaps for you to join into the one-sided conversation, not that you particularly desired to contribute.  
  
Once you reached the objective, Athena's voice sounded over the intercom in affirmation that it had been successfully captured. The next step was to wait out the arrival of the training bots.  
  
"How'dya figure it's proper to address that bloody bot anyway? _Ma'am_? I'm hearin' a sheila but I ain't buyin' it," Junkrat declared, slinging his frag launcher over one shoulder.  
  
"Well, she is an AI," you stated simply, scoping the area for targets.  
  
Junkrat's response was a blaring belch. You pursed your lips in an attempt to stifle a laugh, turning away. There was no way you were giving him the time of day. Unfortunately you were unable to suppress your merriment, and if it wasn't going to escape your facial orifice, it would resort to shaking your entire frame in its reverberation.  
  
You had expected this to further enable the man beside you, but to your relief you sighted the training bots nearing the objective in individual erratic paths, spreading out to surround the area.  
  
Launcher in hand, Junkrat's face split open to release a string of giggles as he fired several rounds in no particular direction.  
  
"Are you even trying to hit any of them?" you asked, watching each grenade that left his weapon miss the intended target and bounce once or twice before detonating uselessly.  
  
"Jus' warmin' up, mate. Havin' a little fun," he responded over his shoulder. "Oi, you'll see! Trade me weapons a tick!" Before you could reply, Junkrat was shoving his grenade launcher into your hands and taking your own gun for himself.  
  
"Uh," you began, contemplating a way to get out of this arrangement without seeming like a buzzkill. You had handled a few other types of guns aside from your own, but a grenade launcher was a territory you had never considered venturing into.  
  
"Look, look," Junkrat said, grabbing hold of your hand and placing one of your fingers on the trigger. "'S just like any other ole gun, just aim up for better range-"  
  
The grenade launcher threatened to jolt out of your tensed grip as you pulled the trigger, but you held it firm. You actually felt a wave of satisfaction go through you as you managed to hit one of the training bots and send it scattering to pieces with a drawn-out squeal.  
  
"Yea, that's the way! She's got a kick to her, don't she?!" Beside you, Junkrat was practically vibrating with excitement and you could have swore you heard him bark. Like a dog. That was something, you thought. That was a - thing he was doing. The dude truly was deranged. Perhaps that was an overstatement. He was... overly excitable. Yeah, that was definitely true. Furthermore, you realized, he was - well, he was actually _fun_ to be around.  
  
You found yourself cracking jokes with him throughout the duration of training. Junkrat seemed to enjoy your quick wit, which for the most part was out of your control. You couldn't make snarky remarks on cue. They seemed to just escape you on their own. You had Junkrat howling with laughter multiple times, and in return he got a few chuckles out of you as well. It was difficult to concentrate with the loud man beside of you, who you were sure was unable to take any situation seriously.  
  
The two of you must have been obviously distracted by each other's humor. Suddenly the gruff, commandeering voice of 76 sounded from somewhere behind you.  
  
"Quit screwin' around, you two! This is a formal training procedure."  
  
You froze, instantly mortified.  
  
"Y-yessir," you said, turning around to regard him.  
  
Well, that's what happens when you loosen up too much on the job. Admittedly, you were enjoying yourself and it was refreshing to have someone as lightheared as Junkrat on your team for once. Still, your face burned in humiliation at being called out by 76. When his visored gaze at last turned away from your direction and he made his way towards one of your other teammates, you turned to Junkrat, offering him his weapon back.  
  
"Eh, can't be bothered with yer gun anyway, mate. Too technical," he said. "'Sides, my aim's shite." You smiled as he proved his point by firing carelessly into the training bots once more.

\--  
  
After a good twenty minutes had passed, Athena at last announced your team's victory, and the training bots, or rather the ones that remained, made their way back to their positions at the other side of the practice range.  
  
"Good work today," 76 said as your team exited the training area to retire for the day. Before you could bypass him, you felt a gloved hand rest firmly on your shoulder, stopping you. Your eyes met the glow of his visor and you stared like a deer in headlights as you awaited with dread what he might say to you.  
  
"Eyes on the prize, rookie. Let's not get too distracted next time," he said, surprisingly soft. You simply nodded and uttered a quick 'sir' of affirmation before walking briskly away from where he stood.  
  
"Ay, wait up!" you heard Junkrat call from a ways behind. You stopped and turned reluctantly to face him as he hobbled towards you. "Where ya headin'?"  
  
"Uh, away from here," you said matter-of-factly.  
  
"Ya look thirsty, mate," he said, slinging an arm over your shoulder without warning. Your face grew suddenly hot, and words failed you.  
  
"How'sabout ya join me for a drink? Nothin' fancy, jus' maybe a nice convo over a coupla milk teas. Ya like milk tea, don'tcha? I've got a right _bonzer_ recipe an' I just gotta have a second opinion. Whaddaya say?"  
  
A date? Was he asking you on a date? You were suddenly hyper-aware of the rapidly pumping organ within you as you processed an answer to this unexpected request. God, you really had struck a chord in the dude with your earlier quip concerning 76's accidental public defecation. Couldn't have just kept your mouth shut, could you? Now you couldn't even muster a simple yes or no to a simple question. You cursed yourself. How you longed for the comfort of your own bed.  
  
Suddenly - a window of opportunity. Your knight in shining armor; an excuse to avoid an evening in the company of this man seeking your companionship. You smiled sheepishly as you placed a hand on the arm currently weighing you down and removed it from your person.  
  
"That sounds lovely - really. I was actually gonna go catch up on some reading though. Maybe some other time?"  
  
Without realizing it you found yourself backing away in retreat as you declined his invitation. Some other time. Yeah, that seemed alright. Not right now, but maybe later. No, but yes.  
  
Junkrat squinted at you before the grin you were beginning to get way too used to returned to his face and he shrugged off what appeared to be mild disappointment. He offered you a theatrical salute as you departed to the safe haven of your quarters; the introvert's bastion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...get it? Bastion?
> 
> heheheh...


	2. Chapter 2

The thought of him clung to you like an unfamiliar scent, invading your mind at the most inconvenient of times. When you closed your eyes, there was his face, marred by your fairly poor visual memory - but still it was there. His voice, too, paraded through your head in all its distinctness, like a catchy song.

What a bother. Since Junkrat had made your acquaintence, he was all your mind cared to ponder. You supposed that he was just the sort of person to make himself known to all who encountered him, even when he was no longer in their presence.

Why the butterflies, though? Why the damn, stupid butterflies with their fluttery wings tickling your insides relentlessly each time you thought about him - thought about how he had made you laugh, and how he had asked to spend time with you outside of training. How he had slung his arm around you like it was nothing, and how you had blushed like mad in reaction to the gesture. Why? 

_You know very well why._  
_You like the fucking weirdo._  
_Shit._  
_You like him a lot._

He was funny, and he was physically appealing to you, even in all his unkept, soot-covered glory. At this realization, you were flooded with even more questions. _Can he kiss? Does he enjoy cuddling? What's he like in bed?_ You felt feverish as you considered all of these things, and you simultaneously cursed yourself for letting these thoughts run rampant. 

_Fuckin' animal in heat. Since when did you get to be so damn thirsty?_

Not even humor could save you now. You had _feelings_ , and a mighty need to oblige them.

\-- 

The next training session rolled around and there he was. When he saw you he visibly lit up and made his way over to greet you with a playful waggle of his fingers and a singsong call of your name, which you were honestly surprised he managed to remember. The bastard. The adorable, smelly bastard.

You smiled, returning his welcoming gesture. You hoped milk tea was still an arrangement that could be made. 

\--

Besides the fact that Junkrat actually did have what he called a bonzer recipe for boba tea, you learned several other interesting things as such dates became more frequent, and the two of you became more familiar with each other outside of training. 

Junkrat naturally did the majority of the talking, but you didn't mind. It seemed his life up to this point was much more interesting than yours anyhow and talking about yourself wasn't something you particularly enjoyed. You nodded along as he rambled on about the state of Australia and how he'd managed to be recruited into Overwatch.

"Queen's a fuckin' wanker an' I'da offed her if _someone_ hadn't spilled the beans 'bout our identities at the bloody gate. Hog and me went round the globe pillferin' an' collectin' up a big load of moolah ta give to 'er 'fore we blew her sky high, but alas... it weren't ta be."

"Did you at least get to keep the money?" you asked.

"Yea, had ta spend it on hospital bills though. Forgot ta mind the fuse on our lil prezzy for the Queen, and ta say the least, it cost me an arm an' a leg," Junkrat replied through a mouthful of boba pearls.

Your eyebrows shot up at his response and he laughed loudly.

"Jus' shittin' ya, mate! That's a whole 'nother story!" he cackled, leaning forward and slapping a hand on the table.

"Oh, you rascal," you said, waving your hand at him. 

\--

You looked forward to training with the promise of a good time, and now, a routine of walking with Junkrat to the lounging area for evenings of conversation and delicious milk tea. In him you found someone who could light up your day just by being himself - however eccentric and admittedly obnoxious that may be.

One day you were particularly solemn as you listened to him going on about the mechanics of his grenade launcher, and eventually inquiring about why you weren't saying anything. 

He'd taken to physically bugging you when he couldn't get a smile out of you, prodding you in search of where you might be ticklish, and you spewed laughter when he found it, to his delight. Leaning into you, he continued to tickle you until it began to hurt. You squirmed to no avail against him, and resorted to pulling on whatever part of him that you could reach to get him to stop.

When your hands tugged his ears to gently pull him away, he went rigid. You quirked an eyebrow at him when his wide eyes met yours.

"You _like_ that?" you smirked as you began slowly kneading his ears.

"Yea, yea, fuck off," he chuckled, leaning his head into your shoulder. "I, ah, love that."

Mental note. The man likes his ears touched. You would never have guessed it. Despite the camaraderie that had developed between the two of you, you were taken aback by his reaction to your touch. Perhaps you still hadn't gotten over the fact that he was shamelessly responsible for countless crimes on a global scale. That, plus his general restlessness had you surprised that he was even capable of being in such a blissful state.

He sighed when you cut off what was becoming a rather intimate moment, which you feared might be a public display in spite of the fairly vacant nature of the lounge area that evening. 

"I like ya, mate. I really do," Junkrat said suddenly in a voice so calm it almost alarmed you. 

When you looked at him, his eyes held an intensity which you read as lust and your face heated up as unwelcome thoughts danced through your head. A voice was screaming _Run, run away! Run far, far away!_ This time an excuse to flee could not be manifested and you merely blinked at him in response.

Relief washed over you when he abruptly changed the subject, but the tension remained even as he prattled on like nothing had just happened, resting his elbow on your shoulder as he talked. How you longed to shut him up with a kiss. So, you leaned in. Just a peck.

Junkrat let out a squeak when your lips collided softly with his. You pulled away quickly and searched his face. His mouth hung open slightly and he stared wide-eyed before moving in for another. You put your hand against his mouth to stop him, and your index finger smooshed his lip upwards. You stifled a giggle at how bewildered he looked.

"Not right here," you said, pulling your hand away. Junkrat ran his tongue over his upper lip. "Why not?" he almost whined. "You shy, love?"

You raised your eyebrows at the term of endearment, and you felt your stomach knot.

"Uh-" words were a jumbled mass in your head as they scrambled to escape your mouth. Junkrat giggled, a mischievious grin creeping across his face. He tapped one finger against his temple and made an exaggerated sound of thought.

"Methinks we's can pash if we slip away ta someplace more private-like. What say you?" he said, his grin somehow growing wider. 

"Pash? Kiss?" you tittered, and he nodded slowly. There were the damned butterflies again. He had you and there was no denying it at this point. So slip away you did, and you couldn't help but notice that his incessant twitching was even more apparent as he led the way like a schoolboy to wherever it was he figured would be most concealed for you two to... deal with your emotions.

You were slightly uneasy at what his idea of secret seemed to be. A dark, empty corridor, supposedly out of use for the day. Never mind security cameras. You were convinced that being seen was the least of his concerns, and possibly an occurence he welcomed. He seemed like that kind of person.

Junkrat wasted no time in pressing you against the wall with his towering form, snickering as he leaned down to flick his tongue across your mouth to request access. You exhaled sharply before your lips locked. You could feel him twitching excitedly against you as his hands wandered about your curves, eventually resting on your hips, his fingers drumming along your skin. The cool metal of his prosthetic hand chilled you.

His smell was all over you and it was like standing in the billowing smoke of a bonfire. You were met with a shit-eating grin when you broke the kiss to catch your breath.

"Shit, dude, are you trying to suck out my life force?" you joked, huffing.

Junkrat sniggered, pinching the soft flesh of your hips. "Don't forget ta breathe, lovie." 

He dipped his head to run his tongue along your neck, pulling you closer against him. Then he was tickling you, and you writhed and cackled, throwing your head back against the wall with a thunk.

"Y'aight there?" Junkrat pulled back with a slight look of concern before his mouth spread into a grin once more.

_Not really, but not for the reason that you think. What am I even doing?_

You wrapped your arms around his waist, laughing off the pain. He kissed his way wetly up your jawline and chin until your lips met once more. 

It was sloppy, but good. Had you woken up to find that this all was a mere dream, you weren't yet sure if it would relieve or disappoint you. You were leaning towards the latter. You considered asking Junkrat to pinch you again, but decided against it.

In the distance you heard the unmistakable echo of footsteps and you froze, pulling away to peer down the hallway. Sure enough, someone was coming. Junkrat seemed too into the moment to notice, or rather, he didn't care. He followed your mouth with his own and whined when you pushed him away from you.

"Anyway," you began in mock continuation of a forged conversation, leaning beside him against the wall, casually, "I think that with the proper technological advancements, it would be possible for us to convert spiritual energy into physical manifestations at will. I sure hope so, at least. I miss my dog so damn much."

As the intruding passerby neared, you offered him an innocent smile of greeting as he walked past, and his return was a scowl as he stopped to address you.

"Do you not know that this hall connects both wings of this level in the facility?" he inquired. You shook your head, flabbergasted. The man sighed.

"If you wish to express your affection to one another, might I kindly suggest _acquiring a bedroom_?" he scoffed, continuing on his way.

You turned to Junkrat, who was gawking at you. He immediately broke into a snickering fit.

"Oi, what was that 'bout yer dog?" he snorted, slapping a hand on your shoulder.

"Fuck if I know, man. I panicked," you said, defeated. 

"Aces, mate. Can't imagine why the bloke didn't buy it."

"Oh, I have an idea. Might have had something to do with your wise idea that this would be a good place to _pash_ ," you scowled, crossing your arms. Junkrat laughed. You were so very pleased that he found this amusing.

"Y'know, next time we should have some fun at your place," he said with a wink. "In-cog-ni-to." Your stomach fluttered at the implication. 

"Your place," you said.

Junkrat blinked. "Yea, 'kay. Have it your way. My place. That's a date, mate."


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lowkey got nervous when I finished writing this 'cause this is my first time posting smut on the internet.
> 
> But it's cool, right? 
> 
> Do enjoy, fellow lovers of the Trash Boy.

You realized as you meandered down the hallway of the barracks that you had no clue which door was Junkrat's, and he had ever-so-conveniently neglected to tell you. Therefore, to your dismay, you reckoned that you would need to ask someone, lest you spend the evening knocking on every single door until you happened upon the correct one.

The woman who received your inquiry gave you a look of understandable perplexity. You considered mustering an excuse for why you needed to know where Junkrat of all people hung his hat, but nothing sensible came to you in the moment, so you opted to ignore her expression as you awaited an answer, which she thankfully supplied.

Now with a set destination, you ambled on, your eyes flitting to each room number. When you at last approached the one you were in search of, you stepped timidly up to the intercom and pressed the doorbell button. Your fingers wiggled at your sides idly as you waited.

The door cracked open and Junkrat popped his head out, looking perturbed. 

"Ah, g'day, you!" he said, regarding you with a crooked grin.

"Hi," you replied, returning a smile with slight unease. "Can I, uh... come in?"

"Yea, yea! Just a tick-" Junkrat cut himself off by slamming the door. A second later it opened again and he stepped aside as you entered. You immediately noted that the room was smoky and it smelled as though something was on fire. On one hand, that was not surprising, but on the _other_ , you had to wonder what he was doing in there and how the smoke detector hadn't went off. 

Oh- that was why. It was dislodged from the wall, dangling by a single wire. 

Before you could ask what he was up to, your question was answered when Junkrat hobbled over to a large pot on the floor, which must have been the source. You sidled over to stand by him and peered inside. There were several charred morsels of - _something_ \- inside of it, and a single flame flickering weakly.

"Right, so- I, ah. Tried whippin' up a bite to eat, 'cause y'know- guests and, like, common courtesy an' all that- but, _eh_ , I don't fuckin' know what I'm doing, and I sorta-" he gestured wildly to the smoking pot- "I fuckin' burnt it, mate." Junkrat seemed genuinely disappointed in spite of his humorous tone. He stood scowling with his clenched fists resting on his hips. A hiccup of a laugh sounded in your throat at his disgruntled expression.

"Well, um. That's okay," you responded, watching the smoke undulate in a thin line from the pot. "The sentiment is appreciated, anyway."

You fished a water bottle from your satchel and opened it, pouring the contents over whatever it was that had inadvertently been singed beyond well-done. The small flame was doused with a light hiss, and you turned to the man beside you to offer him a smile.

You decided you weren't going to bother asking Junkrat why he had attempted to cook something by setting it on fire in a pot instead of perhaps fetching something from the cafeteria. Instead, with a cough, you asked if he might open the window on the far wall to rid of the smoke. As he did so, you observed the layout of his room. It was sparse, to be sure, but make no mistake, he had made it his.

There was a bed with a bare mattress, an itchy looking blanket crinkled on the floor at the corner of one end. Taped haphazardly to the walls were various scribbles of what looked like blueprints, one which you recognized as his frag launcher. There was a single crude drawing of a smiley face on notebook paper located over the headboard of his bed. You also took note of various contraptions lying about, and a desk covered in tools and pieces of scrap. 

You were almost regretting your insistence on spending time with him in his own space, rather than your own. He did after all have a history as a lawless individual. You then considered his sincere attempt at hospitality. What a character he was. You had to wonder what you had gotten yourself into. Junkrat's voice jerked you from your train of thought, and you turned your head to look at him.

"'Ow ya goin' then, love?"

He lay across his bed with his head resting on one hand, grinning at you. You mused, gripping the strap of your bag in one hand.

"Fine, yourself?" you said.

" _Spiffy_ ," he replied, his grin unwavering. He patted the mattress, inviting you to sit. Or, at least, that's what you did. 

"Well, what ta do now that I went an' spoiled our romantic dinner?" he leered as you lowered yourself to sit on the edge of the bed beside him. You leaned your weight into one arm to support yourself as you turned to face him.

"Were you pretty hungry? I mean, I ate recently, but we could go down to the mess hall-" you began. 

Junkrat reached up to curl his fingers into the fabric of your shirt and drew you closer. You sucked in a breath as you braced yourself against the mattress, all but falling forward into him. A small smile played on Junkrat's mouth as he regarded your expression with amusement.

"That's right sweet of ya ta ask, really. I've gotta better idea though if, ah- You're game," he uttered with a grin.

_Well, skippity flippity doo. Here it is. You always had a thing for the ones who could make you laugh._

In spite of your timid reservation, you leaned in, lifting the strap of your satchel over your head and dropping it to the floor beside the bed as an afterthought. Junkrat gripped another bunch of your shirt with his other hand, and you felt the material tighten around you considerably. He gave your shirt a tug and you toppled onto him, your face colliding with his.

"Ow- fuck," you grumbled, crinkling your nose.

Junkrat let out a tittering laugh. 

" _Oops_."

Your expression softened when he took advantage of the close proximity and pressed his lips to yours. Closing your eyes, you kissed back, scant frustration forgotten as you melted into the heat radiating from his body. Junkrat clenched and unclenched his fingers around your shirt and a halting string of small giggles and moans escaped him against your mouth. 

Such an over-excitable boy. Well, at least you knew you weren't boring him. 

You suddenly felt your shirt inching up and you bristled as a chill ran across your lower abdomen. Junkrat's cheshire grin was an immediate indicator of what he wanted when you pulled away to look at him.

" _Ooo_ ," he cooed, wiggling his fingers along the hem of your shirt. "What'sit ya got hidden under here?"

You allowed him to remove your shirt and bra, not without blushing profusely at the noises he made as he worked them off eagerly. Soon enough you were supine and stark naked with his lanky form sprawled over you.

So, here you were.

You found comfort in how warm he was. His weight anchored you nicely against the shabby bed. Beneath the single exposed lightbulb on the ceiling, the golden, sinuous locks of his hair were illuminated like a sort of halo around his impish face. _Here comes the sun_ , your brain sang idly. 

The digits of his hand were cold in contrast, and you tensed involuntary when he placed the pad of his index finger to the tip of the bundle of nerves between your invitingly open legs. Junkrat flinched away at your reaction to the chill of his sudden touch. "No worries, mate. Washed me hand in the toilet," he said.

"Huh?" you huffed as he stuck his flesh hand in your face for you to smell. "No, no - just cold. You have cold fingers is all." You gently placed a hand on his wrist. The corners of your lips tugged into a small smile of reassurance as you guided the digit back towards you and nestled it between the folds of your sex, right at your favorite spot.

It then occurred to you that you were essentially masturbating with someone else's hand, and your face immediately burned even more than it already did. _Way to make it awkward_ , you thought to yourself, releasing his hand.

Junkrat's brows knit as he attempted to mimic the motion that you had demonstrated. His breath caught slightly when he felt the soft tips of your fingers gingerly caressing his ribs.

You managed an utterance of affirmation, your eyes pressing shut as confidence seeped into his shaking hand. The ecstasy was short-lived. The eager junker ventured to press one finger deeper inside you, and the uneven edge of his chewed down fingernail rasped your sensitive flesh. You let out a small noise, wincing at the pain.

Still, your hips lifted into his touch and your head lowered back as you felt him lean down to appreciate you with his mouth, and - you flinched - teeth. He made his way in a wet trail of soft kisses and nips from your sternum to the area just below your navel before removing his fingers from you, to your honest relief; the dexterity of his hands earned him more merit outside of the bedroom, you concluded.

His mouth then neglected you too, but was back on you immediately where his hand had left off. You let out a soft gasp of surprise as he went to work with his tongue. It was evident that there was little experience in his technique, but his mouth was pleasantly warm, and he compensated with an eagerness to please, exploring every crevice of your sex and gauging your reactions. 

You definitely wouldn't have deemed it the most mind-blowing of kisses your lower lips had received. The occasional abrasion of sharp canines and prickly stubble, and of course the ever present pressure you felt of his pointed nose made for at least an interesting and endearing moment; but suddenly - _suddenly_ , something was happening down there. A steady build. Suddenly - bliss. 

Your hands searched on either side of you for something to grab onto, but the absence of a sheet or blanket anywhere on the mattress forced you to instead curl your hands into fists. When your climax tapered off to a steady pulse, your senses were reduced to the sound of your own voice, breathily muttering something of incoherence, and the subtle sting of your nails digging into your palms.

"Strewth," Junkrat breathed, pulling away from you at last. You felt him move to hover over you. Your eyes fluttered open and there was his intense gaze. "Ain't you a sight."

You let out a soft laugh of embarrassment at his praise, too enamored for your brain to form a verbal response. You thanked him by reaching both hands to stroke his ears, which were notably warm to the touch. Junkrat gasped softly and dropped his head to nuzzle his nose into your chest.

"Oh, I'm meltin', love," he murmured. He grew still for a moment as you massaged the shells of his ears and worked your way down to the lobes. You felt a wetness on your chest. Was he fucking _drooling_? So far, never a dull moment with this guy. You had to admit that you liked that about him, even if it sometimes had you mentally scratching your head. 

You pressed a kiss to his sooty cheekbone, and he lifted his upper body to look at you.

"Ya mind if I, ah," he stammered, adjusting his body to nestle his hips between your legs. You could feel his erection pressing into you through his shorts as he ground against you slowly. Suddenly he paused and tore his gaze away, biting his lip with one sharp tooth. "Soz, mate, not tryin' ta seem impatient. Just excited izzall. Eh, 'kay, but also impatient, yea."

"It's okay," you breathed. What a...gentleman? "Hey, keep doing that."

His eyes darted back to you and he stared for a moment, an odd laugh escaping him. "What's the magic word?" he teased, squinting down at you. You returned his smug expression.

" _Please_. Please _do_ go on, kind sir." You batted your eyelashes at him with a smirk and he obliged.

You enjoyed the sensation with a contented expression before suddenly sitting up. Junkrat watched you intently as you reached down and began fumbling with his belt. You cursed your clumsiness, pulling at his waistband.

"Thought I was the impatient one," Junkrat chuckled impishly.

"Just get in here already," you laughed, gesturing to yourself.

Junkrat stood tall on his knees and met your laughter with a prideful expression, puffing his chest out and placing his fists dramatically on his hips. "Well," he drawled, yanking his now undone shorts down his thighs. "If you insist, my dear." Eyes closed, he did not notice your uneasy expression.

As he went to settle himself between your legs once more, you stopped him by pressing your hand against his chest. 

"Uh, Rat," you said.

Junkrat opened his eyes, blinking down at you.

"Yea?" he replied, sounding flustered.

"Mind the, uh. The thing." You pointed warily to the small explosive device attached to the belt on his shorts. Junkrat looked down, raising his brows.

"Oh, this ole buggar! Ain't gonna go off or nothin', if that's what yer worried about," he said. Suddenly a toothy grin crept across his face. "Or, I mean, I dunno 'bout you, but I for one wouldn't mind goin' out with a - _bang_." 

He eyed you expectantly.

You let out an exasperated chuckle before punching him softly in the chest with a hollow thud; your wordless response.

"Right, 'kay," Junkrat said, setting to work at detaching the device. "Just for you." He tossed it carelessly over his shoulder.

You shot up with wide eyes at the clatter the explosive made as it impacted the floor, bracing yourself for its detonation, which did not come. Junkrat laughed at your reaction, leaning forward to gather you into an embrace.

"Not ta worry, love, she ain't gonna go kaboom on us. Not without my sayin' so," he uttered in your ear.

"How do I even deal with you?" you asked, nasily, due to your nose being smashed uncomfortably into his shoulder. "You're dangerous and a dork. Danger Dorkus."

" _Ouch_ , mate," Junkrat said, releasing you. "Nah, but, y'know, ah- that reminds me. Y'don't know me real name, do ya? Can't recall if I ever told ya." 

You imagined you had seen it once or twice when you had cared to check the news while channel surfing some time before joining Overwatch. However, it had been a while. And with a moniker like Junkrat, any other name associated with the man was bound to slip your mind. You shook your head.

"Jamison," he beamed.

"Jamison what?"

"Fawkes!" 

You smiled. How fitting. Suddenly a thought came to you that you figured he would be able to appreciate. "You know, I already know that Jamison has a sense of humor, and I definitely know that he's got a knack for engineering," you said, running your hand over his arm prosthetic appreciatively and leaning in to whisper in his ear, "but I have yet to find out how well Jamison _Fawkes_." 

Junkrat looked at you incredulously, tilting his head to the side. After a beat it hit him and he broke into a fit of laughter that lasted longer than you had honestly expected.

"Hooley _dooley_ -" he exclaimed loudly, his face tinged with red. "Guess you'll just have ta find out, won't ya?"

"Yeah, guess so," you replied quietly, admiring his flustered expression with a smirk.

Junkrat tapped the ends of his fingers together giddily as he regarded you. "'Kay, now it's my go, yea? Ya got a right ace name an' all, but I'm gonna call _you_... my little bombshell!" 

"Oh God," you chuckled. "I've encouraged him. Now his power only grows!" You slung your arm dramatically over your eyes like a damsel in distress. The two of you reveled in your equally horrible humor until a sudden calm took over and silence followed.

"Jokes aside though, mate," Junkrat began, sounding unusually serious. "Junkrat, Rat, idiot, courtesy of ole pigface, and ah - whatever it was ya called me just now. All are great fun 'n all, but, y'know... you can call me Jamison if it tickles yer fancy. Don't bother me none either way." As he spoke he positioned himself between your legs once more. Back to business, then. 

"Same for me, I suppose," you said thoughtfully, watching him. "I, uh... I don't mind your pet names, I don't _think_ , but _little bombshell_... I dunno about that." 

"Oi, why not?" Junkrat squawked, pausing to scowl at you playfully. "'S cute, innit?!"

"It's so damn cheesy!" you teased, sneering. 

"Too right! Suits ya though," he replied simply, busying himself with his member. You felt him prodding your entrance as you waited, staring up at the ceiling. Somehow the circumstance - the objective - if you will, that had brought the two of you together in this position had slipped your mind momentarily as you conversed. You admitted to yourself that it was refreshing, considering your past relations with the opposite sex had been both literally and figuratively an in-and-out ordeal. 

As you mused, your gaze traveled lazily upwards to rest on Jamison's face. His eyes were fiercly trained on his 'work,' and you both sounded out when he pressed the head of his penis into you. You were overwhelmed with his smell when he leaned over you to better angle himself.

"In we go," he tittered with a slow thrust of his hips. 

The ridiculous choice of words forced a shuttered chuckle from your lips as you reached to grip his forearms. He eased his way in with a series of soft pants, ghosting his open lips across yours. 

Junkrat buried his nose into your neck as he gradually picked up his pace, whimpering lowly against your ear and sending a surge of goosebumps through your neck and shoulder. You slid your hands up his arms and rested one on his shoulder blade, spidering the fingers of your other hand upwards along his neck to tangle into the hair on the back of his head.

You could feel the chilled pads of his flesh fingers dragging along the curve of your hip, eventually curling vacantly into the soft skin of your waist as he pushed himself all the way in, pausing to savor the sensation for a moment. He pulled away with a groan, searching your face.

He watched your expression as he played with the angling of his hips, circulating them and rocking them haltingly. You opened your eyes and immediately flushed when you met his gaze. He was almost catlike, irises narrow like haloes peeking from behind his ecliptic pupils.

"You're a beaut, babe," Junkrat murmured, lowering his head to brush his nose against yours. You leaned in to press a kiss to his philtrum, and another just above his chin for good measure. Your momentary quest to gradually cover the entirety of his face with kisses was interrupted when he moved just _so to_ force a sharp moan from you. 

You threw your head back at this, and he took the opportunity to dot your exposed throat with hickies, muttering nonsense against your skin as he rocked against you.

The creaking of the bed and your collective labored moans echoed through the room, and your face felt as though set ablaze by Jamison's sincere efforts to touch and caress you like a treasured possession. His nose remained nuzzled into the crook of your neck aside from the occasional kiss or nip to accent his pleasure.

You only panted and sighed and clung to him as he thrusted into you erratically with audible fervor, muttering semblances of coherent interjections and praises or otherwise making noises so bizarre that you almost laughed if only you could catch your breath.

Eventually Junkrat's pace began to falter and he announced with a mewl that he was close.

He braced one wobbling arm against the bed, the fingers of his free hand digging into your side as he hunched over you, nearing his release with a telltale crescendo of breathy whimpers. 

When his climax took him, Jamison all but squealed into your neck, his thrusts tapering off to a steady rhythm. Soon your own orgasm had you squeezing him closely and screwing your eyes shut so tightly that a kaleidoscopic burst of lights danced behind your eyelids and faded outwards.

_Fireworks. How appropriate._

The two of you lay panting softly in a sweaty heap for several moments before Junkrat lifted his head to beam at you. He gazed at you fervently before planting a sloppy kiss on the tip of your nose and rolling off of you. The bed jolted as he threw himself against it at your side, releasing a contented sigh.

You lay silently for some time listening to his steadying breaths. Eventually you shifted to lie on your side, resting your head on the mattress and closing your eyes.

"So, ah- Come here often?" Junkrat said suddenly, casting a sidelong glance at you. He lay flat on his back with his arms crossed behind his head, a smug expression adorning his features. You sat up to stare back at him with a deadpan look.

"Welp," you said bluntly, swinging your legs over the side of the bed to feign an angry departure. "I'll take my leave now."

Junkrat shot up, gripping your forearm to stop you.

"Nng- _wait_! You were 'sposed ta say- 'naw, mate, 's my first time.' Then I was gonna say- 'well, d'ya want to, lovie?' Y'know- _come_ here more often? Then maybe we'd have another naughty 'cause ya, like, think I'm just a right _genius_. I dunno. _Thatwazzagoodonethough!_ And you know it!" 

"Damn, dude, chill out!" you laughed out loud. "I'm just messing with you. That was pretty good actually. Your pun wasn't so bad either." You smirked. Jesting with him was something you were realizing was extremely gratifying. Bonus points if you could make him blush.

"Oh. Ah...Cheers," Junkrat grinned, giving your arm a squeeze. You winked at him before leaning over to gather your clothes. In spite of the circumstances, his smitten expression caused you to feel suddenly bashful at the prospect of having your birthday suit on display.

You wrapped your bra around you and worked to fasten it at the front, but your efforts were lost when it was abruptly snatched away. Junkrat returned the glare that you shot over your shoulder at him with a cheeky visage before holding the garment up under his nose to peer at you.

"Mate. Yer not bailin' out on me, are ya?" 

"Well, no, I'm just kind of cold, so I was going to-"

Junkrat tossed your bra aside and stood up on his knees to shimmy closer to you. Wrapping his arms around your body, he nuzzled the back of your neck.

"I'll keep ya warm, love. Oi, I know-" 

He released you and crawled to the end of the bed to retrieve the blanket on the floor. Belting out a triumphant tune, he wound it tightly around you both. You blinked slowly before turning to face him.

"Thanks, Jamison," you said through a yawn. You mused for a moment. "It is kind of late, though." 

Junkrat regarded you pensively, fidgeting with the frayed edges of the blanket.

"If yer 'bout ready ta flake out, why don'tcha just, ah- stay here?" he said.

You tensed, flushing even in the wake of what seemed to be a confirmation that _something_ between the two of you had been established that evening.

"How about it, then? I mean, we'll have ta share a woobie, cause- well, I've only got but one. But I'll even be yer pillow if it suits ya!" he gleamed. 

_Damn it_. You couldn't resist. Later on, you would likely wake up in a sleep-fogged panic to find the man lying naked beside of you. For now though, snuggling up to him under the single blanket sounded rather pleasant. Even if you would leave his abode smelling like him the next day. 

Well, you had already slept with him, so that couldn't be helped anyway. 

You accepted his request by leaning into him with a smile, which earned you a sound of glee as he drew you closer and pulled you with him to lie back on the mattress. Before he moved to bring the blanket over you, Junkrat muttered something inaudible and sprang up, bounding towards the light switch to flick it off.

Your eyes took a moment to adjust to the sudden darkness, so you only heard him clamber back towards the bed and felt him flop down beside you again. Soon the blanket rose up and over you, and Jamison wiggled close, snaking one arm beneath your head and twirling his fingers in your hair. You nestled your head into the crook of his neck and curled your arms up against your chest.

Junkrat started talking about something, but the warmth of your bodies beneath the cover was lulling you to sleep and you were too lazy to reply. He continued speaking for some time without expecting an answer until he finally dozed off and whatever tangent he had been going on was replaced by his noisy snores. 

You sighed against his skin as your eyes fluttered shut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **alt ending** :  
> You were awoken some time in the night by a shrill beeping that sounded from the floor at the edge of the bed. You sat up, squinting through the darkness, and suddenly you remembered: the bomb that Junkrat had so carelessly pitched to the floor earlier that night.  
> What the _fuck_? Had he fucking tripped on it or something on his way back from turning the lights off?  
>  _Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck_  
>  You sat up and shook Jamison awake when the beeping grew louder and more rapid.  
> Before he could react in his waking state, the room quaked. Light spilled in from the hallway through the hole that the explosion had blown through the floor and wall.  
> Clutching the blanket to your naked body, you gawked in horror next to a cackling Junkrat as several of the agents from the neighboring barracks gathered around the wreckage to stare wide-eyed into the room in search of the source. An alarm sounded.  
> Your commanding officer would most likely want a good, long talk with you and it was likely that your time as an Overwatch agent would come to an end, you thought.  
> And it would be all Jamison fucking Fawkes's fault.


End file.
